Reflexes
by Partners In Fanfic
Summary: Everyone has reflexes, but most of the time we don't acknowledge them. What happens when Ziva is forced to acknowledge hers? ONESHOT *Set after episode, Grace Period*


_**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS.**_

_This is a little TIVA oneshot I whipped up after watching the episode, Grace Period. The words hit me for some reason, and I thought it deserved a little ficage out of it. Anyway, it's not my best writing, but I hope you like it anyway. Read and enjoy!_

_Yours in fanfic,_

_EAJP  
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Paula Cassidy: I didn't think anything could make you jump._

_Ziva David: It was merely a reflex._

_Paula Cassidy: Ah. In America, we call that jumping._

_Ziva David: In Mossad, we call it the difference between life and death._

Ziva let her head fall unceremoniously against her door as soon as she shut it. Sighing, she blinked her eyes a few times, trying to process what had happened today. Tony was irritated with her that she wouldn't get along with Paula – Paula. Paula Cassidy died.

Ziva knew death. She was familiar with it her whole life. In the Mossad, deaths were the most common thing in the world – civilian deaths, agent deaths, any type of death. Sadly, death was the one thing that remained constant in her life – that is, until she got to NCIS. At NCIS, she realized there was a lot more to life than fighting and dying.

Which was why seeing Paula Cassidy die was slowly beginning to take its toll on her. Losing agents is hard, and it's especially difficult when Ziva's partner was taking it worse than anyone. As Ziva moved from the door to her kitchen, she was haunted by the look on Tony's face when he saw Paula jump through the door. It was a look that said that he wanted to die with her – a look she knew all too well.

And the fact that Tony looked ready to die scared her. She didn't admit it at first, but it did. It rattled her to her core. Seeing the usually all smiles Tony Dinozzo like that frightened her, mainly because it was a side of him she didn't know he had. Knowing he felt that way made her want to protect him, comfort him. But she didn't. Because she couldn't. in Mossad, she was taught many things, but comfort was not one of them. Whenever something hurt her emotionally, she shrugged it off, and whenever she saw someone else in pain, she shrugged that off too, hoping that eventually whatever the pain was would go away.

Ziva shook her head to clear the image from her mind, and immediately felt guilt tugging at her heart. She hadn't been the friendliest to Paula, and she knew it. It wasn't that she didn't _like_ Paula, it was that they were from totally opposite sides of the spectrum. Also, Paula screwing up at basically every turn with the last few cases they worked on didn't help much either. Part of Ziva knew she was doing it to annoy Tony, but she dismissed all thoughts of him.

Ziva went to her fridge and grabbed the items she needed to make some breaded chicken and pasta. She couldn't help but remember the conversation Paula and she had in the old building when Tony showed them the trap door as she began to cook her meal.

"_I didn't think anything could make you jump," Ziva heard Paula say when Ziva had jumped at the door suddenly shutting._

"_It was merely a reflex," Ziva replied, defending herself for no real reason._

"_Ah, in America, we call that jumping."_

"_In Mossad, we call it the difference between life and death."_

Ziva knew she had struck a chord in Paula when she said that, mainly because two of her people were just killed. She wasn't sure if she had said it unconsciously out of spite, or because it was the truth. Certain things were just reflexes.

Ziva also knew why Paula jumped through that wall. It was simply a reflex. Ziva always pegged Paula as the type of person who needed to make things right, and she was completely (and unfortunately) correct. Paula saw more destruction on the way, and needed to make it right – and it cost her life.

Ziva watched the pot of water on the stove slowly come to a boil. She had reflexes – many reflexes. Certain situations caused her to whip her gun or knife out and hold it to someone's throat, certain situations caused her to respond to things like she would with Mossad, and some situations caused her to attack someone and pin them to the ground.

But her biggest reflex was pushing people away.

As soon as she sees someone is getting close, she closes them off, mainly because bad things have always happened when she'd let people in. For her, letting certain people in used to mean the potential of death – pushing them away gave her security, strength, peace of mind. People thought she was cold – she thought she was being selfless. If she kept them away, she could save them from death, at least in Mossad.

She wasn't Mossad now though. She knew she wasn't, she _felt_ she wasn't. But, as they say, you can't teach on old dog new tricks. That's why the minute Tony tried to get close to her, she shoved him away completely.

She knew he cared about her – maybe even more than a partner should. She knew he would do anything for her. She knew that every time she even looked at another man with a flirtatious appearance it made him cringe. Yet she ignored it. She denied it. Because she could.

For years, the only thing Ziva had control over was who got close to her – who became her friend. She had no control over where she would be – she didn't even have control over her own well-being – but she did have control over who got to knew her. That's why it became a reflex.

Shoving Tony away wasn't the wisest choice, and Ziva knew that too. Yet she continued to. Why? Because she kept telling herself he was dangerous. In fact, he was more dangerous than any number of the terrorists she had faced in Mossad. Simply because he cared too much.

She didn't want to hurt him. That's what she keeps telling herself. She's not an official NCIS agent, so getting shipped back to Mossad can happen at any time. She doesn't want to see him break like she did when Paula jumped through the wall opening.

Reflexes. She cursed them up and down. Not all reflexes – just her reflexes. Why? Because she had all the wrong ones. Her mind told her to push people away when she should welcome them, to ignore people when she should be paying attention to them, to shove people back when she needed their help. Mossad made her a person she didn't want to become, yet here she was. Cold-blooded. Assassin. Three words (one with a hyphen) that could sum up her existence.

Ziva rubbed a hand over her face as she flipped the chicken in the pan. She had another reflex that she's not even consciously aware of – the reflex of denying the obvious.

Tony cared about her. She denied it. Tony depended on her. She denied it. She can change. She denied it. She can leave Mossad. She denied it. She denied everything that's true, mainly to help her sanity. Accepting all that would mean an even bigger change than she's gone through – one that she's not really ready for.

Ziva made a split second decision. She strode over to her cabinets and pulled out some containers to put the freshly cooked food in. It seemed she made enough for two, why she didn't know – or didn't want to know – so it wouldn't hurt to share.

It didn't matter if she was ready or not. It never mattered before. Not in Mossad. So why should it matter now? Besides, this time she wanted to accept the facts. She wanted to accept that Tony cares for her. And she'd start by letting him in and helping him through Paula's death.

Striding purposely out her door, down the steps of her apartment, and out into the night air with the containers tucked under her arm, Ziva smiled. Old habits might die hard, but she'd land softly on her feet with Tony by her side. Just like always.

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**Let me know how I did! This is only a oneshot, but I might write more of these if I see people like them (after all, I write for the readers =D)**

**Hope you enjoyed!  
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